The Black Book
by CrispyBaconbits
Summary: Annie is forced to come to terms with reality through the pages of a journal she erased from her mind. Inspired by the movie Shutter Island. Unorthodox but worth a read, I promise! Strangely similar to episode 3.19, despite being written beforehand!
1. Realization

**A/N:** This story was inspired by Shutter Island, which is probably one of my favourite movies. It's really unorthodox, but I'm having a lot of fun writing it! Some characters, especially the Dean, will seem OOC. However there is a legitimate reason for it. Reviews are welcome.

* * *

I was working alone in the library. The group had just finished studying for the big Biology exam, and everyone felt extremely confident. Being Annie though, I had opted to keep reviewing a bit longer just to make sure. I just_ needed_ to ace this exam. Well, technically we all did since we shared the same mark. Of course, I couldn't force the study group to stay with me and study any longer so I just had to hope they were all being honest about being ready for the exam. Somewhat comforted by the thought that they were being honest with me, I returned to my books.

My eyes however soon began to disagree with me, as they slowly began to droop closed. I finally gave in, deciding that it was better to get some rest than pull an all-nighter. I glanced up at the clock, and my eyes widened when I realized that it was 2am. I never stayed in the library this late, and I cursed myself for parking so far away from the library today. I guess that's the price you pay for actually coming to school when it starts rather than 20 minutes earlier like I usually did.

As I made my way out of the library and into the parking lot, something peculiar caught my eye. I saw a car which looked very similar to Jeff's Lexus pulling into the otherwise abandoned parking lot minus my own car. I almost gasped when I saw that it was indeed Jeff, but he was wearing a white coat, similar to the one's we wear in biology. I furrowed my brow in confusion; it looked like Jeff was going to try and break into our biology room to do...something. I couldn't figure it out, so naturally I had to follow him inside.

Making sure that I was well hidden, I slowly sneaked behind Jeff as quietly as I could. I was almost positive he couldn't hear me, even though my heart felt like it was going to burst out of my chest from the nervousness. I became even more confused when I saw Jeff walk straight past our biology class and into...the Dean's office? I rubbed my eyes to see if I was just seeing things, but as I reopened them the Dean's door was indeed closing slowly, indicated Jeff had just entered. My mind began to race with thoughts about this whole situation.

_Why is Jeff here?_

_Is he trying to get the Dean to open up the Biology room for him?_

_I guess they should lock it now after what happened a couple weeks ago..._

_But why is the Dean here so late?_

_Is Jeff furthering the investigation about the yam?_

_Is it about Starburns?_

_Is he going to cheat on the exam?_

_Is he in trouble with Professor Kane?_

_If he is we could all fail!_

_I gotta at least see what this is about! The fate of our biology grade is at stake!_

With this new resolve, I crept silently closer to the Dean's office. After what seemed like forever I was just outside the door. But I was immediately surprised at the voices I heard. It was Jeff and the Dean, although the Dean sounded...different. Much more mature and less flamboyant than he usually sounded. The shocking thing however, was that there were other voices which I immediately recognized as _my study group. _I could hear Britta, Shirley, Abed, Troy and Pierce in the office as well, and it sounded like they were talking about...

"Craig, she thinks Alex is dead now!"

"I don't see what the problem is?"

"The problem is she didn't write about that! It could ruin everything!"

"Alex wasn't important!"

"We don't know that!"

"Look...John..."

_Wait a minute...John? But the guy talking to the Dean sounds like Jeff...in fact I know it's Jeff. I know that voice._

"Don't call me John here Craig. We all swore to use the names she gave us whenever we are in this building. You know that."

"Look _Jeff, _just be happy that you weren't named after a water filter."

"Will you give it a rest Jen-I mean Britta. It's been 3 years I hoped you'd be used to the name by now."

_Jen? Names she gave us? What the hell is going on?_

"Maybe we should just let this play out."

I recognized this new voice to be Abed's.

"Let this play out? Are you crazy? If she relapses we're back at square one!"

"Well quite frankly I'm sick of having to act like a robot all the time. You're not the one pretending to live with her, _John._"

I almost gasped at Abed's tone. I had never heard him sound so challenging before. And did he say _relapse_? And who the hell was John!

"David, look..."

So Abed was David now? I couldn't take it anymore. There were so many questions attacking me from every direction. I felt like I shouldn't barge in but this sounded like an important meeting of some sort. But they were still talking about _me_! Why were all these new names popping up? And why wasn't I invited to this? If there's some kind of problem with me I should know goddamit! I suddenly felt myself getting very insulted at the secrecy of this whole thing. All I wanted was answers. So without further ado, I got up, held my breath and opened up the Dean's office door.

Everyone looked at me completely shocked, and to be honest, my own expression wasn't that different. My study group plus the Dean were all in white lab coats, looking at me as if they were a deer caught in headlights. Nobody had said anything for a few awkward moments until finally the Dean spoke up.

"Hello Annie."

"What's going on here? Why are all my friends here? And why wasn't I invited? Whatever you're saying about me you can say to my face!"

"Annie, calm down."

"No! What the hell is this?"

"It is very complicated."

"Well explain it! Jeff, tell me what's going on."

Jeff looked very hesitant and nervous suddenly, but the Dean still looked calm.

"Craig, what do we do?"

"You will let me handle this. Everyone except John and myself may go home now."

"His name is Jeff!"

"Everyone leave!"

Without saying a word, the rest of the study group left the three of us in the office. The Dean still looked rather calm. Unfortunately, I couldn't say the same for myself. I felt myself getting flustered and, oddly, scared at the extremely foreign and angry tone that the Dean had just used towards the rest of my friends. When it was just the three of us in the office, the Dean addressed me again.

"Annie, you have stumbled onto something that is a private matter. I would appreciate it if you would please calmly leave my office. John can escort you-"

"WHO THE HELL IS JOHN!"

Jeff looked taken aback at my screaming, but I just couldn't help myself. My entire body wanted answers right now, and I wasn't budging until I got them. Yet still, the Dean looked remarkably calm.

"Would you really like to know everything, Annie?"

Jeff suddenly grew wide-eyed and looked very nervous. I however, didn't hesitate and simply nodded.

The Dean just nodded before opening his desk. Jeff however, jumped beside him and grabbed his arm before he could pull out whatever he had hidden there.

"Craig, you can't do this. It'll be 3 years wasted!"

"We are not getting out of this, John. We have no choice."

Jeff reluctantly let go of his arm before sitting idly on one of the couches. I glanced at him for a moment and he gave me a look of pity. Suddenly, I didn't know if I _did _want to know what was going on anymore. But it was too late. So I just waited for the Dean to get on with it, looking at him expectantly. I was taken aback when I saw what he had taken out of his desk. It was a regular sized, normal looking black hardcover book. I recognized it immediately.

"That's my..."

"You're journal."

"How did you get that? I lost it-"

"3 years ago?"

"Yeah...how do you know that?"

"Annie, do you remember anything you wrote in this book?"

"Of course I do!"

"Would you mind giving us an example of something you wrote about in here?"

"Well...sure I guess. I...um...well I...I wrote about..."

But it never came to me. It was weird; I remembered my journal so thoroughly. I had written in it every day when I was in rehab. The day I lost it was the worst day of my life...but I hadn't really thought about it since. And now...

"I thought as much. You can't remember can you?"

"Why can't I remember?"

"Because you don't want to."

"...why?"

"Because if you do, everything will come back. And you don't want everything to come back, do you Annie?"

"What is everything?"

"..."

"Just tell me!"

"Are you sure?"

"Please..."

"Alright. 'Everything' is the reason why you are at Greendale."

I felt myself getting more angry at this news.

"I already knew that! My addiction to Adderall is something I've already dealt with, and I already know that's why I'm at your school! Stop lying to me!"

"I didn't say Greendale Community College."

"What?"

"I said Greendale."

"...okay?"

"And you were never addicted to Adderall. In fact, you've never even had one Adderall pill in your entire life, Annie."

"This is ridiculous."

"How fitting for you."

"How is it fitting?"

"Well, this 'school' you've created is ridiculous isn't it? In every possible incarnation of the word. Especially the stuff you make me do sometimes. Like the costumes."

"What do you mean 'you've created'? I didn't create anything! And I don't make you do anything either! You wear those costumes because that's just...you! That's who you are! You're Dean Pelton! And that's Jeff Winger! Just give it to me straight already! I'm getting fed up with this!"

The Dean had no response to this but didn't take his eyes off me. His expression was blank.

At this point, Jeff had finally stood up looking annoyed. The Dean seemed to notice this, and motioned for him to sit back down, giving him a knowing look. Their little moment only confused me even more, but I did get one thing from it: Jeff was just as frustrated as I was.

"Alright Annie," said the Dean. "I'll stop beating around the bush."

I just looked at him expectantly, waiting.

"Like I said before, Greendale isn't a community college. The school acronym isn't GCC; our acronym is instead GMI."

"Which stands for?"

"Greendale Mental Institution."


	2. Sedatives and Room 303

"A mental institution. Really."

"Yes."

I quirked my eyebrow up at the Dean. This was stupid. I didn't know what was going on here but I knew for sure I wasn't a patient in a mental hospital. Annie Edison may be a lot of things, but she wasn't crazy. And I was about to prove it to the Dean and finally get some real answers.

"Okay, Dean. Even though I know this is a blatant lie, why don't you explain to me why I can leave here then and go back to my apartment?"

The Dean didn't seem fazed at all by how direct I was being. Jeff seemed to have also relaxed a fair amount, going back to stand next to the Dean and folding his hands in front of him. They were both looking at me rather sadly, and the pity was beginning to seriously irritate me.

_This is stupid. There's nothing wrong with you. _

"Annie, your apartment is situated behind this building. In fact it is another branch of the institution that houses other patients. Room 303 is the only one that takes the image of an actual apartment. For your benefit, of course."

"Really? Well then how come I drive home every day? Seems a little redundant to me!"

"You're right; it _is_ redundant, since everyday you just drive around the block a couple times and park behind this building."

"You really expect me to believe that?"

"Of course not."

"My apartment is not behind this building! You can ask Troy and Abed themselves!"

"Why do you think you live with them Annie?"

"BECAUSE THEY'RE MY FRIENDS!"

"They are looking after you. Making sure that you don't-"

"I DON'T NEED TO BE LOOKED AFTER! I'M FINE!"

I was fuming at this point, and even though I was in a room with two other people, I also felt extremely alone. Suddenly, the only thing I wanted was someone who believed me. I wanted Jeff to tell the Dean he was crazy; that this was all some practical joke. I'd still be mad but at least whatever this was would end. But Jeff was just looking at me, with the same pitying expression as the Dean's. It made me want to leave this place as fast as I could. Or wake up from whatever terrible nightmare this was turning into.

"I'm leaving. I've had enough of this," I said defiantly.

"I cannot allow you to leave now without being sedated first, Annie."

"I don't need to be sedated! I'm not insane!"

"Annie, I can't let you leave this office while you know this information; it is too dangerous. Although, I'm afraid you may know too much for the sedative to fix you again."

"Fix me?"

"I apologize, that was a poor choice of words. Basically what the sedative does is temporarily cause you to have memory loss so that you only remember what you're supposed to. It is useful for when you have other relapses."

"I've never relapsed once in my life! I hate that word! I beat my addiction to pills! I've never relapsed with anything!"

"There was no pill addiction, Annie. I have told you this already."

"Well then what the hell did I relapse with, huh genius?"

"Failure."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Every time you fail at something you do here, your mind is reminded of a small part of your true past. This causes you to usually have some sort of outburst and we have to work quickly to sedate you in order for you to compose yourself."

"So I get mad when I can't do something, I guess that makes me the most dangerous person here."

"It _does_ actually."

"How so?"

"Annie, I think it's time we cut this little meeting short. You are to be sedated, and school resumes tomorrow. Good luck on your biology final. Jeffery, if you will."

"I thought his name was John."

But the Dean didn't answer me; he simply got up and left through one of the side doors of the office. This left me and Jeff alone together. I was the first one to speak.

"Jeff, what exactly is all this. I'm not crazy right?"

"Of course not Annie. You're not crazy. Dean doesn't know what he's talking about."

"Well then why couldn't you tell him that when he was here!"

"I wanted to, but you two seemed to be in a pretty heated conversation. And then he left before I could catch him."

"...why are they calling you John? And what are you doing here so late?"

Jeff walked up to me and laid his hand on my cheek. I felt myself blush a little bit at the way he was looking at me.

"I could ask you the same question, milady."

"Jeff..."

And just like that, his lips were on mine. The kiss felt pretty nice, especially since I'd been longing to kiss him again but he had seemed hesitant. It also gave me some degree of relief after all the odd things that I had been told tonight. But then during the kiss, I remembered what the Dean said before he left.

"_Jeffery, if you will."_

I pulled away and glared at him, but he was still holding me in his arms.

"Wait a minute Jeff! You're not going to sedate me are you-"

And that's when I felt it.

The tiny pricking sensation was almost gone as soon as I felt it, but I knew it happened. Almost immediately I began to feel extremely tired like when I had left the library about an hour ago. I soon realized the only thing keeping me up was Jeff himself, and as I looked up into his eyes I saw that terrible pitying expression again.

"J..eff..."

"I'm sorry, Annie."

And then, everything went black.

* * *

Jeff walked up to the phone on the Dean's desk. He glanced over at Annie who was now lying quietly on the couch, completely passed out. After a moment, the Dean picked up.

"So what now, Craig?"

"_I don't know. The sedative won't completely erase what's happened here tonight. She's too far gone."_

"But she'll be fine in the morning right? At least for a little while?"

"_She should be."_

"Alright, we have to come up with a plan in that time then."

"_I have one idea. But it's a long shot."_

"What is it?"

"_We could have her read the book."_

"Are you crazy?"

"_John, she's not going to believe us anyway if we tell her the truth up front. We just tried that tonight. What other choice do we have? This is our job. We need to make sure she gets better. Maybe the best way to do that is to just let her come to terms with reality. It's been three years, maybe now she will be more accepting of the truth if she sees it in her own handwriting."_

"Craig...do you know what you're doing?"

"_I hope so. Bring Annie back to Room 303 and tell David and Peter the situation. Take the book from my desk and put it on the night table next to her bed."_

"Will do."


	3. Cheryl

**A/N**: This chapter is short but deals with some sensitive issues. Reviews welcome as always.

* * *

A girl sits in her bedroom in a tiny apartment. Across the hall, she suddenly hears a door slam.

He's home.

She wonders if he's drunk again, and a moment later she hears bottles breaking, confirming her suspicions. She slumps into her bed, tears in her eyes as she waits for him to inevitably enter. She looks over at the black book on her night table, knowing that she will be writing in it about an hour from now.

Then she flinches when she hears his voice.

"Cheryl! Daddy's home!"

* * *

I jutted awake in my bed. I rubbed my eyes groggily before grabbing my head in pain. It felt like I was having the worst migraine known to man, but I had no idea why. I sat back against my pillow, trying to remember last night's events. It was almost as if I was hungover, but I knew I hadn't had anything to drink last night. The last think I remember was studying for our Biology final, but I couldn't remember actually leaving the school. Confused and frustrated, I decided to get up and ask Troy and Abed about the night's events. I was really hoping that they didn't convince me to do anything stupid last night.

Turning to get out of bed, I glanced at my alarm clock on my night table to check the time. It read 7:15am, which meant I was already about a half hour late for my morning routine. I probably would have freaked out, but my head hurt too much to care. This wasn't good; I needed to be in tip-top shape for our exam today. I groaned to myself; I was gonna kill Troy and Abed for whatever they convinced me to end up doing last night. I started to get out of bed, but then I noticed something else on my night table. My eyes widened when I realized what it was.

I had lost my journal over 3 years ago when I was released from rehab. It was very important to me, especially considering I couldn't really connect with anyone after my nervous breakdown. The black book was probably my best friend for most of my time in rehab; I remembered spending hours writing in it during my free time. About what exactly, I couldn't really remember. During my first few months at Greendale, I remember longing for it. Eventually though, I learned to let it go. I realized that after rehab, the book wasn't important anymore. It wasn't a part of my life; or rather it didn't need to be. I had almost completely forgotten about it until today.

And yet here it was. The book was sitting right in front of my eyes, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. I was beginning to get very confused, and a small part of me wondered if I was still asleep. Why couldn't I remember what happened last night? And why was this book here? It was all very strange. I knew I needed to get up and get ready for the day, but I decided to see if my journal had any answers first. But I discovered that as soon as I had it in my hands, I grew hesitant. I felt myself beginning to sweat and my head ached again, confusing me even more. Despite this, my compelling urge to read the book was more powerful, so I opened it up and read the first page.

* * *

_February 3__rd__, 2004_

_Dear Journal,_

_Hello, my name is Cheryl. I saved all my money and bought you today from the bookstore down the street. I hope you aren't upset about that; I just really needed someone to talk to. See, I can't really talk to any real people in my life. I don't have any friends, in fact, I never have. Everyone thinks I'm fat and ugly, and I'm always made fun of. I'm not really smart either. I always wished I was though. When you're smart, you don't have to be pretty or popular, because you can help people with things in school and they'll love you anyway because of it. But I'm not that smart, so people just think I'm a loser. Oh well, one day I'll be smart. I'll be the smartest person ever, and everyone will have to love me._

_I also don't have a mom, or I guess I do, but I don't know where she is. I don't really blame her. Sometimes, I think it'd be better to run far away from here. I live in a really gross apartment with my dad. My dad...my dad isn't a good person. For as long as I can remember it's just been me and him. He never liked me, and I don't know why. He makes fun of me like the nasty kids at my school, and whenever I can't do something for him he hits me. He likes to drink alcohol a lot too, and that's when the worst stuff happens. He...touches me after the alcohol. I hate it. I hate it so much. Sometimes I just want to leave, but I don't know where I would go. Nobody could possibly like me anyway. Not until I'm smart. I need to be smart. Until then, I guess I'm stuck here. I need to be smart._

_Thanks for listening to me Journal. You're the only one that's ever actually listened to me. I like to think we're friends now. In fact, since you're my new friend, I think you deserve an actual name. How about...Annie? Yeah, I like that name. Cheryl and Annie. Best friends forever. I guess that's all for now, Annie. Again, thanks for listening._

_We'll talk soon,_

_Cheryl Winger_


	4. Migraines

**A/N:** OKAY SO I'M FREAKING OUT BECAUSE THIS WEEK'S EPISODE WAS EERILY SIMILAR TO THIS STORY. I DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW IT HAPPENED BUT I AM FREAKING OUT OVER IT OMG. PLEASE READ AND REVIEW THIS CHAPTER. I'M SORRY FOR CAPS THIS WON'T HAPPEN AGAIN BUT YOU UNDERSTAND DON'T YOU?

* * *

I just stared at the book in confusion. Well, it wasn't really confusing as it was more...overwhelming. For some reason after reading what I just read, I wanted to run away. I didn't even care enough to question anything in that book; all I wanted was to get away from it. And Cheryl Winger...the name sounded familiar, but Jeff had never mentioned any Cheryl before. Whoever had planted this book was playing some sick joke on me, and I knew it could only be two people.

I was suddenly very angry at my roommates. I threw the book across my bedroom before getting up and storming across the living room to the blanket fort. I practically ripped open the sheets, startling Troy and Abed who were already awake, but still in bed.

"Who the hell is Cheryl Winger?"

The boys just looked at me, confused.

"C'mon! Who is it? Who the hell is Cheryl Winger? Who is she?"

Troy got up from the bottom bunk and stood to face me. He looked very concerned.

"Annie, what are you talking about? We've never heard of a Cheryl Winger. Is she related to Jeff?"

Suddenly, my head started to hurt like hell again. I clutched my hair in my hands and fell onto my knees. I could hear Troy and Abed trying to help me, but all I could focus on was this goddamn migraine that had apparently appeared out of nowhere this morning.

Why was this happening to me?

Troy and Abed both tried to comfort me but I pushed them away, falling down in the process.

"Get the hell away from me!"

I scurried away from them like a startled chipmunk and went to sit against the far wall of the blanket fort. The two of them suddenly looked so foreign to me. I wanted to get up and run away from them but I couldn't will my legs to get up and actually walk. So I just sat there looking around frantically for something to hide my face from them. I settled on a small statue of Inspector Spacetime that was on their night table. I felt like they were judging me in some weird twisted way, like I was their stupid and bizarre science experiment.

When I finally willed myself to look up at them, I saw that look. They were giving me the same infuriating look of pity that Jeff and the Dean had given me last night. And then it hit me: last night. The book was in the Dean's desk. Jeff, John, the white coats, me apparently being in a mental institution, Jeff kissing me, Jeff sticking me with that needle...it all happened last night. It was at this moment that my legs finally decided that they could at least stand up, which I did immediately. Instead of leaving though, I decided to see if I really _didn't_ just dream this whole thing.

"Troy...what's your real name?"

"..."

"TELL ME WHAT THE FUCK YOUR REAL NAME IS, TROY!"

His expression didn't change, but he at least decided to answer me.

"My name is Peter. And this is David."

He was gesturing to "Abed" who also didn't stop looking at me with that goddamn expression. I wanted to slap both of them so bad so I could just get that stupid look off of their faces. Or maybe I could slap myself...I felt so weird right now, like my whole world was just crashing down around me. I was feeling and doing things that I hadn't ever really thought about before.

I just wanted to run away...I just wanted to be Annie Edison again...

"I...I need to go."

Troy and Abed both took a step towards me, but had kept their hands folded neatly by their waists.

"I'm sorry, we can't. Maybe you should get some rest?"

"Let me go, _Peter._"

"David, go call Craig. It looks like we'll have to deal with this now."

I watched the other man go, without hesitation. For some reason it infuriated me. I just wanted to stop him from calling anyone. I wanted him to stop moving altogether.

Everyone just needed to leave me alone. I wanted to be alone. I _needed _to be alone.

I looked up at Troy. He remained calm, but was now blocking my only way out.

"Get out of my way."

"I can't."

I raised the statue I was still holding like a makeshift dagger. It was pointy and sharp, so it would work well.

"Move."

"Annie, put that down. You don't want to do that. We can help you."

"I said move!"

"Annie..."

"MOVE IT!"

"Put it down."

He started moving towards me and gently grabbed my arm, trying to pry the statue out of my hands with his other free hand. I raised my foot and tried kicking him away, but he was still holding on. Then I heard him yell out in a tone that wasn't as foreign to me.

Desperation.

"David! Hurry up! She's remembering!"

"I SAID GET OUT OF MY WAY!"

And before I even knew what I was doing, Troy was on the ground. I looked down in horror at his limp body below me. The Inspector Spacetime statue wasn't in my hand anymore, it was in his neck. Before I could even register what I had done, I started feeling extremely groggy. I fell back against the wall and slid down onto the ground as my eyes began to close. The last thing I saw was a flurry of white coats surround me and the lifeless body in front of my eyes.

* * *

_August 20__th__, 2009_

_Dear Annie,_

_Dad left me. Well, I guess I shouldn't say that; I kinda left him. Remember I said it was useless to run away like my mom did? Well I finally got enough courage to do it anyway! Now I'm on a bus with weird looking people. After I left dad, this funny looking bald man found me on the street. He told me that he could take me to a place where people would love me. Isn't that great, Annie? I could meet more people who listen to me like you do! Maybe all these people have problems of their own that are just like mine! Maybe they won't care if I'm not smart! Well actually, I should still try and be smart, just so I can make sure they like me without any doubt, right? _

_The place is called Greendale. I know it's some kind of school, but I think there are people there to help me adjust since I'm only 18. I also need a new place to live, but I'm fine with anywhere. You don't get picky after living above a weird "adult store" with a mean dad like I did._

_Sometimes I think my dad should have gone to a place where people understand him. Maybe if he had a friend like you, he could be a better person. I really wish he had someone like you...maybe he would've appreciated me more. I just...I wanted him to like me. To love me. I would've done anything to get that from him. I still would._

_I wish you were real sometimes, Annie. I mean, you'd be pretty cool. I picture you as this really pretty girl, who's got lovely brunette hair that reaches her shoulders. She only ever wears modest clothes like cardigans and long skirts, but she can also be really sexy when she wants to be. She's also really nice and caring. Everyone would love her because she's always looking out for other people. Not to mention she's unbelievably smart. I'd love to be like that one day. I bet you'd be proud of me if I did turn out that way, wouldn't you?_

_You and I could totally take over Greendale too! We'd make all these great friends who were all different in their own ways, and everyday could be an adventure. It'd make up for all the things I've had to go through so far in my life. Maybe even dad will come to the school and see how much cooler I am thanks to you. Then, he'll actually respect me, and maybe even love me! Doesn't that sound wonderful, Annie?_

_I think we should plan out how we're going to do this. I want my experience at Greendale to be miles better than any other experience I've ever had. I want to be happy here. But I should go for now; there's a weird guy staring at me. I really can't wait to get off this bus._

_Talk to ya later!_

_Cheryl_

* * *

I woke up in my bed again, but I immediately knew something was off when I couldn't move my arms. I looked over and realized that my hands were tied to the bed posts, like some sick sodomy type position. I immediately started struggling, before also realizing I wasn't alone. Surrounding my bed were six chairs. On my direct left was Britta, followed by Abed, Jeff, Dean, Shirley and Pierce. I realized Troy was missing, and then once again I remembered why. At that realization, I suddenly felt tired and unbelievably sad. I just wanted to be left alone, or for this nightmare to be over; whichever came first. It was around now that the Dean decided to address me.

"You read your journal."

I nodded, looking down at my sheets.

"I must be honest, I had hoped you had read a little more before you decided to attack Peter, but nonetheless you've become acquainted with Cheryl."

"Yeah."

"Do you know who she is?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Do you remember what we spoke about yesterday?"

"Yes."

"So then you _do_ know who Cheryl is."

"No I don't!"

"But of course you do, Annie! For heaven's sakes you've been best friends with her for over 7 years now!"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I think you know, Annie."

I felt my stomach cringe. I suddenly wanted to vomit.

"Are you suggesting that _I'm_ that stupid book?"

"Don't be silly."

"Well than who am I? I don't even know anymore! Everything is so confusing right now! It makes me so-"

"Angry?"

"Yes! Just...please...tell me what's going on. Who am I...?"

"I can't tell you that."

I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs.

"WHY? I'm finally cooperating with you and you decide to shut me out?"

"No, I simply cannot tell you who you are because I don't know. What I can tell you is who you _were_, although you already know. You have for some time."

"You mean..."

The Dean suddenly got up and went over to the head of my bed. He sat down next to me and looked me deep in the eyes. It was an unnerving look, but somehow I couldn't look away. I felt like curling up into a ball and just crying, and I didn't even know why yet. But I was starting to understand other things, such as...

"What is your name?"

"Cheryl...Cheryl Winger."

"Where are you?"

"Greendale...Mental Institution."

"Why are you here?"

"...I..."

"Why are you here, Cheryl?"

My head felt like exploding, but I kept the pain at bay long enough to answer this final question.

"I killed my dad...Jeff Winger."


	5. Answers

**A/N:** For those of you who are keeping up with this story, thanks so much! I know this story is confusing, and I give you credit for sticking with it.

* * *

Cheryl Winger runs into her room and locks the door. She looks down at her hands, which are now reddened with blood.

What has she done?

Feeling desperate and suddenly claustrophobic, Cheryl yanks out a dirty old suitcase from the top shelf in her closet. Not bothering to be careful in the slightest, she shoves a bunch of clothes and her toiletries into the case. She also makes sure to pack her journal. She then runs to the washroom to wash her hands – a process that seems to take longer than it should. Once she finally looks somewhat normal, Cheryl grabs the case and throws her coat on before running out of the dirty old apartment.

She almost trips over the limp body in the middle of the room.

Breaking out into a full sprint down the street, Cheryl suddenly notices 2 cop cars racing in the opposite direction. Their sirens are blaring. She goes to hide behind a couple trees until she's sure the officers won't be able to notice her at all. Sighing in relief, Cheryl continues down the quiet street. She doesn't have a watch or a phone, but she assumes it is around 3 in the morning.

It's been a day. Cheryl wakes up sitting against an old tree. Instantly remembering what had happened the night before, Cheryl begins to frantically look around to see if anyone is watching her. A little surprised that there are still no people around despite the sun being out now, Cheryl uneasily begins walking down the street once again. About an hour later, she spots the first person she's seen since leaving her home - minus the 2 cops.

The man is wearing a brown suit with a brown hat and is walking straight towards her. His face is obscured, but Cheryl does not get a bad vibe from him. He seems rather calm and not at all surprised to see her. She wants to run away anyway, but her feet decide to keep her in place on the side of the road. The man finally makes it to her and lifts his hat slightly, revealing a rather quirky looking man with black frame glasses. He smiles at her.

"Hello there."

"H-hi."

"Going somewhere?"

"I-yes."

"May I ask where?"

"No."

"Fair enough. You do look to be rather stressed and tired though; maybe you should rest for a bit?"

"I am a little tired..."

"There's a bench in that park over there. Come."

Cheryl follows the man in the suit to the park bench, where he sits down calmly and beckons her to sit next to him. She does so, albeit hesitantly.

"My name is Craig by the way. What's yours?"

"Cheryl..."

"You seem rather nervous, Cheryl. I assure you, I'm not going to hurt you. I just feel like talking to someone. I've been somewhat lonely lately, you see."

"Oh."

"Do you live around here?"

"I did."

"Did?"

"Yeah...I...don't anymore..."

"Ah, I suppose now the suitcase makes sense. You are moving, correct?"

"Yeah. Moving."

"I see. It's kind of ironic actually, I just arrived here myself. I opened a facility called Greendale. Have you heard of it?"

"No, I'm afraid not. Sorry."

"Oh, it's quite alright."

"...what kind of facility is it?"

"It's...a place for special people. Or people who need someone to talk to."

"Sometimes I think I could use someone to talk to."

"Well, you'll be able to talk to whoever you're going to move in with. Right?"

"...right."

"Hm."

"What?"

"You aren't moving in with anyone are you, Cheryl?"

"No! No...I mean...I am..."

"Oh, my apologies. Well, if you ever feel like talking to some new people, Greendale's doors are always open. There will be a bus that goes directly there if you are interested."

With that, Craig gets up and starts to walk back down the street. Cheryl however, finds herself calling out to him before she knows what she is doing.

"Craig!"

The man turns around to face her expectantly. Cheryl runs up to him.

"Um...the bus you mentioned...where do I find it?

Craig just smiles at her again before answering her.

"I'm sure that it will find you, Ms. Winger."

With that, he turns around and begins walking away again. Cheryl just watches him go; she is completely unaware that she hadn't told him her last name.

* * *

I sat in my bed while everyone watched me intently. I was crying, yet I was still a little unsure why. I just told the Dean that my name was Cheryl and that I killed my own dad (who was apparently named Jeff?) but I was still having trouble actually believing it myself.

But then...why did I tell him that?

I somewhat recomposed myself before looking back up at everyone.

"Um...I...don't...I don't understand."

The Dean smiled at me, and suddenly that smile seemed to be much more familiar than it ever had been before.

"That's alright, Cheryl. At least you've calmed down. Now we can explain everything."

I just sighed.

"...please..."

The Dean pulled out my journal before speaking again.

"Everyone may leave, she's calm enough now. That includes you John."

Everyone left my room except for the Dean, who moved to sit right next to me on the bed.

"Dean...I'm sorry about...Peter."

"Oh that's quite alright, Cheryl. We were able to stop the bleeding, although he's still unconscious. He will be alright though."

"That's...good."

"This book meant a lot to you didn't it?"

I nodded.

"Well, it means a lot to us too."

"Why?"

"Because it is the only thing that is keeps you connected to your real life."

"You mean...as Cheryl."

"Precisely."

"Dea-Craig...last night, you told me that I made you put on the silly costumes and everything. I still don't understand."

"Ah. Yes, well that again goes back to the book. If you will just give me a moment here..."

Craig flipped open the book to around one of the middle diary entries before adjusting his glasses slightly to read the passage out loud.

_"September 22nd, 2009._

_Dear Cheryl,_

_Today I met the Dean of our school. He's not really that intimidating like I thought he would be. I find myself wanting to help him when I can, because he seems to not really have a good grasp of how to run this place. He also strikes me as a person who would be overly flamboyant. I bet he has a whole array of different costumes hidden somewhere in his office. Between you and me, his sexuality also seems a bit...ambiguous. I think he has a crush on Jeff, but I guess that's not that surprising is it, Cheryl? Jeff's really likable...not to mention gorgeous. I think I may have a tiny crush on him! But now it's looking like the Dean wants me to join the debate team...I don't really want to, but I guess I could play along to get closer to Jeff._

_I'll keep you updated,_

_Annie"_

I stared at Craig in shock. That was my writing...and I had described the Dean perfectly before I even knew anything about him...

"I...I knew all of that about you so soon?"

"No, you simply gave my 'character' traits in this particular entry of your journal."

"Your character?"

"Yes."

"So...I created Dean Pelton?"

"Correct. But that's not all you created. You created the image of this being a community college, you created the rest of the study group, and you created every event that has led up to Annie's significant character development."

"So it's like I'm starring in my own television show or something?"

"That's actually exactly what it's like."

Another question suddenly started to bother me.

"If you knew about this than how come you played along?"

"Because we couldn't simply refer to you as Cheryl and tell you that you were mentally sick. You needed to realize it yourself."

"But..."

"Cheryl, did you realize that the journal entry I read to you says 'Dear Cheryl' instead of 'Dear Annie'? That is because at some point between your time away from home and before you were committed here, you decided to switch personalities."

"Switch personalities? So I just abandoned who I was?"

"I wouldn't say abandoned, more like escaped. You were so emotionally and physically scarred from everything that Cheryl went through in her life that you began to grow envious of Annie. You realized that she was everything you wanted to be, and since no one knew Cheryl or even cared to _get to know_ Cheryl, you could be Annie and no one would know the difference."

"But...I would."

"Ah yes, we thought so too. This is why we were hesitant to play along with this whole thing. But after trying to take a more direct approach with Cheryl, you grew rather violent. You killed two of our doctors before we could even sedate you."

I was taken aback by this new information, and quite frankly, horrified.

"I...I killed people?"

"Yes. It was around this time that we decided to play along with the scenarios you created in your journal, while at the same time trying to make you believe you had lost it so the scenarios seemed real. Eventually, Cheryl Winger became virtually nonexistent to you, and we have been trying to find the right opportunity to make you realize who you really are. At least we _were _trying to do that until last night."

"Right..."

"Cheryl listen, I understand that this is a lot to take in but we have no choice but explain this to you now. Especially after what happened to Peter."

I just nodded. For some reason, other than the fact that I apparently killed people I was surprisingly taking this rather well. Maybe it was the fact that I knew who I really was all along in my subconscious. Or maybe it was the fact that the proof was right in front of me in my journal. But for the first time, perhaps because I technically didn't have a choice anymore, I actually stopped running away. I was Cheryl Winger, a troubled girl who grew up with an abusive father and no mother that used a journal to create someone who was everything she wasn't. Only one real question remained to be asked.

"Craig...why did I name John after my dad?"

For the first time, I noticed that the man seemed to be a little nervous, but he began explaining anyway.

"Cheryl, your father...Jeff. He treated you terribly. The things he did to you are outlined in this journal, and some of them are so severe that I do not necessarily wish to tell you at this moment. But what is important is the fact that you _still_ didn't seem to hate him, even after everything that he had done to you. After three years of observation, we have deduced that the one thing you wanted from your father overall was love and acceptance. In your journal, you talk about how Jeff "has some flaws, but you love him anyway because he still treats you and the group well." Your natural attachment to John is what triggered you to name him after your father, which in turn caused you to use him to distract yourself from the real Jeff. The Jeff Winger who goes to Greendale is the result of your longing to be loved by your father, and your longing to be loved in general. This is also why your relationship with him teeters between being parental and romantic. The only thing that didn't make sense at first was the fact that you killed your father yourself, but we have reason to believe now that you were not in complete control of your actions. It is just like what happened with Peter a few hours ago. Whenever you feel threatened and you are not in your "Annie" persona, you tend to act rather...violent towards those who you perceive as trying to harm you. This behavior was also brought out by your father. That is another reason why you're here."

"So the Jeff that goes here isn't modelled after my dad, he's modelled after my desire to be loved by my dad..."

"Yes, in all aspects of the word. I understand that it's hard to accept-"

I shook my head quickly. The more Craig told me, the easier I could grasp it. It was like all this information was just lying dormant in me, like some sort of virus waiting to infect me.

Or maybe I was already infected...

"I get it, Craig. I'm...I'm done running away. I think this place has taught me that no matter how much I want to be someone else, I'll always end up being Cheryl in the end, because that's all I _can_ be. Being Annie Edison is nice, but it'll never be everything I want it to be, because I think deep down I know that Annie isn't really who I am. But maybe with time, Cheryl can grow up to be just like Annie. Until then...I guess she's just my idol. I just...I just wish all my friends were real..."

Craig put his hand on my shoulder reassuringly. "You're twenty-one years old, Cheryl. You still have time to make things right. You still have a life ahead of you. This was just...a little detour. I'm going to need to keep you here to monitor you for a while in case you regress, but I think you're ready to meet someone who actually _is_ real. A person that took us almost four years to track down."

"You mean..."

"Yes, Cheryl. We've found your mother."


End file.
